When Living Starts: Insight, #5

By R. D. Scott

These short stories describe the lives of my characters in the Insight series. Homicide and Special Investigations tell how Beth Holder began her career. When Living Starts tells Brenda's story.  Brenda becomes Astral for Finder's Keepers and Weaver's World.

• Language: English
• Publisher: R. D. Scott
• Release date: Apr 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386105817

R. D. Scott

Retired policeman and retired private detective.  The golf got boring and writing took it's place.

Book preview

Foreword

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When I started my stories there were several different ways to approach the direction my characters were going.  The use of one character to tell all the ways lives interact would not give proper concern to how each developed.  I have in these stories tried to give a sense of individualism to each character.  I hope you enjoy them.

Dedication

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This series of stories is to thank my Mother and Father, rest their souls, for dedicating their lives to further the well-being and lives of all their children.  The love was unstinting and they were always within our daily lives.

Table of Contents

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Homicide

Special Investigations

When Living Starts

Sightless

Backstop

Finders Keepers

Weavers World

Homicide

Chapter One

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My grandfather has been an influence on my life from the day I could only say gam-pa.  As I grew older he became Gramps and his life became my bedtime stories.  I was barely a teen when I lost my parents in a horrible accident and Gramps was my savior.  It's no wonder that my goal in life was to follow his example.  He had retired from the Atlanta Police Department, but he never forgot a minute of his time as a cop.  A homicide cop.

I worked hard in school, partly to thank Gramps, but mostly to learn as much as possible in order to reach my dream.  I attended and excelled at Georgia State and couldn't have been more proud to graduate Cum Laude and enter the Atlanta Police Academy one week later.  With my graduation from that training I was on my way, I was aiming for my dream, to be a Homicide Detective.

Thankfully, Gramps had not romanticized the job.  I had been warned about all the drudgery, the foot beats, the headquarter duties, and the never ending paperwork.  I had also listened closely when he described patrolling the streets at all hours of the day and night.  Safety and awareness go hand in hand, keep the eyes moving constantly and evaluate what you see.

Three years of patrolling, of writing speeding tickets, settling domestic disputes, stopping bar fights, and the occasional arrest of petty thieves gave me an abundance of traffic and criminal court experience.  My degree in Criminal Science seemed to be going to waste during my daily routine, until routine came to a screeching halt.

I was slowly driving along Mitchell St. just before midnight, checking alleys and storefronts when I heard shooting and my patrol car was showered with glass.  Bailing out of my patrol car, I called for backup as I located a third floor window that was shattered.  I took up a position on the sidewalk a few feet to one side of the window above me and against the wall when the shooting started again.  I entered the building's hallway, called dispatch again and reported additional shots fired, then carefully started up the stairs toward the third floor.  My backup arrived as I reached the second floor, my Sergeant and two other patrol cars.  The Sergeant used his radio to direct one officer to the back of the building and the other to cover the front door, then quickly came up the stairs behind me.

We carefully approached the third level only to find several people standing in their doorways, the ever present curiosity crowd.  Having heard shots they went looking for the source instead of locking themselves in and calling the police.  One adventurous soul, upon seeing our uniforms, pointed to the end apartment and quickly closed his door, as did two others when we cautiously moved down the hall, guns drawn.  The Sergeant pointed at himself and motioned left, then pointed at me and motioned right, indicating the parts of the apartment we would each cover.  I nodded and kicked in the door without waiting for the go ahead, our approach had already wasted valuable time.

On my side of the apartment was an open living room with a small kitchen tucked into the corner, on the outside corner of the building.  The window between a chair and a couch was smashed out, a result of being hit by the lamp clutched in the hand of an obviously dead man lying on the floor under the window.  He had three red blood splotches on his chest.  On the couch was a second body, a woman with only one wound, a hole in her forehead.  I quickly turned toward the left in case the Sergeant needed backup, but found him standing over a man's body on the floor leaning against the doorway of the bedroom.

Beth, the bedroom is clear, I assume since your facing me that your side is also clear.  He was telling me, good job, but in a scolding voice, I had not announced the right side clear per procedure.

We've got two dead over here with what looks like four shots, the one near you looks to have two holes, that makes a total of six shots, and from outside I think that's the number I heard.  I gave a quick report.  The window in the bedroom appears locked and it doesn't look like anyone climbed through the broken window, so our shooter must have left through the front door.  I didn't hear anything from the hallway on the second floor and nothing up here after you joined me.  I then stuck my neck out by offering my opinion.  I think our shooter's still in the building.

The Sergeant used his radio to verify positions and reiterate his command to cover both  the front and back of the building and not to let anyone leave, then he called for an ambulance, an M.E., and Homicide detectives.  He next used his cellphone to call our patrol commander to report our situation and request additional backup to contain the scene.

You need to keep this scene as clear as possible.  The only people that need to enter this apartment are the M.E. and Homicide.  He instructed me.  We don't want any gawkers messing up evidence.  Also, keep the other tenants on this floor in their apartments, nobody leaves.  When I mentioned that he sounded like he had done all this before, he ruefully told me he had, but that there had been a few mistakes on his part and he was not ever going to repeat them.

Within twenty minutes Homicide appeared, in the form of Lieutenant Mulligan, the second in command of the squad.  He stood in the doorway for at least five minutes just getting a look at the scene, then asked me, standing in the hall behind him, if I was one of the first responding officers.

Yes Sir, in fact I was the initial caller about the shots fired, as well as the first officer to enter the apartment.  That's when Fate, an entity I refuse to believe in,

intruded.  The Lieutenant called down the hall for the Sergeant and on his approach asked for another officer to guard the door so that I would be free to act as a recorder for him, he said he couldn't write notes and evaluate the crime scene at the same time.  And that's how I ended up on my first Homicide case.

The job, as described to me by the Lieutenant, as he handed me a pair of gloves, was to follow him through the investigation and write down everything he said.  He explained that there was a flow to his process, he didn't want it interrupted to stop and write down things he noticed, in the past it caused him to miss things because he got distracted.  I told him I understood and would write what he dictated, so if it wasn't to be written he needed to be sure of what he said.

A wise assed cop, huh?  He rolled his eyes.  Do I need to find someone else to help me?  I needed to explain myself quickly. 

No, Lieutenant, it's just that other cops I've worked with tend to say inappropriate things mixed in with their normal conversation.  If you were to do that I wouldn't want those things written down.

Got it.  I won't be saying anything not directly related to the case.  He told me to write what I hear and let him worry about the content.  I turned my phone to record mode, I don't think he noticed.

Then he began talking, he started at the door and described everything he saw. He noted that officers arriving at the scene had forcefully entered the premises with probable because of the damaged window and then shots fired.  I was told to include the names and badge numbers of all the responding officers and what part they played in that response.  I was told to get the witness statements from the officers taking them.  He asked me to make sure crime scene techs took lots of pictures, then he began detailing the room, the position of the bodies, the location of wounds on each body, where he thought the lamp used to break the window had been, and a description of the visible blood spatter on the walls and furniture.

This look unusual to you in any way, officer? He asked me, with a frown.

Something's seems wrong to me, see anything?

The only thing so far that makes no sense to me is that nobody ran.  I answered.  They were all shot in front, like they just waited their turn, why didn't one of them try to run?  The Lieutenant's face broke into a grin.  Agreeing with me, he walked to each body and examined the bullet holes.

I think the guy by the window was the first one shot, then the woman before she could get off the couch, and both were close range.  There are powder burns on the man's shirt and the woman's forehead.  He walked over to the body by the bedroom and after looking at his wounds told me to note that there were powder burns there also.

Can you remember the spacing of the shots you heard?  He looked at me closely. 

Yes, Sir.  There were three immediate shots, glass from the window hit my windshield and a split second later another shot, and when I ran into the hall to the stairs, there were two more.  The last two were almost a minute after the first four.  I think I understood what he was thinking. The man by the bedroom was shot last and didn't expect it.

That's right, officer, this guy was with the shooter, he wasn't aware of his own danger.  He started going through pockets looking for identification and as he found something, called it out so I could note it.

Lieutenant.  I started, then stopped.  He didn't like interruptions and I was really uncertain about the thought that had caused it.

Officer? He answered and raised an eyebrow.

It's Beth, Sir, and I know you said you hate distractions, but I just remembered something strange.  I went over it in my head again.  When the Sergeant and I got here to the third level there were a couple of people with their heads out of their doors to see what the shooting was about.  As soon as we cleared the apartment I took their names and phone numbers.  This explanation was taking to long, I could see a frown starting on the lieutenant's forehead, getting to the point was necessary.

Well, the thing is, one of the residents stated that he had just stepped out of the shower when he heard the shots. The point is, his hair was dry and he was wearing shoes.

Okay, but if I were going to the door I might slip on a pair of shoes to protect my feet.  He didn't get my point.

"Yes, but his shoes were tied.  Would you jump out of the shower, hear shots, slip on some pants and shoes, and tie them?"  I could see the understanding cross his face and wasn't surprised when he directed me to lead him to that witness.

We carefully approached the door of the witness's apartment and when Mulligan was ready, I knocked loudly.  After repeated knocking, I reached for the knob and found to my surprise that the door was unlocked.  Letting the door swing open we took quick positions on opposite sides, each covering half of the apartment.  Quietly and with great care we explored and found nothing.  No witness, no residents, very little furniture, and the impression that no one had lived in this apartment for some time.

Well, we know your instincts were correct, something was off about this witness.  The Lieutenant commented as we finished checking out the apartment.

Now let's find this guy.  I followed him downstairs and continued taking notes as he questioned the officer at the building entrance.  We followed the hall until we reached the rear of the building and spoke to the officer watching the rear door.

Neither officer had allowed anyone in or out and our, by now, suspect had vanished.  The Lieutenant motioned me to follow him as we returned to the bodies and the M.E. upstairs.  One of the Forensic techs volunteered the details of our victims, he had texted the prints to his office and got results right away.

Detective, the woman has a record of prostitution, but it's three years old and nothing since.  The guy by the window was on probation for burglary, he was released from prison six months ago.  The interesting one is that guy by the bedroom.  The tech pointed.  He's got a long record for assault and there is an open court case for attempted murder, he was out on bail.

I wrote down the facts as given, including their names and when he stopped talking, asked if he had any addresses for the dead.  The dead woman and the dead guy by the window were listed as the residents of the apartment. Mulligan didn't say anything at my request, but did nod approvingly.  He must have felt there was nothing else to be gained and directed me to the station with instructions to pull the files on our victims and leave them on his desk, then go home.

I want you back in my office at 10:00am to review your notes.  He informed me.  And wear plain clothes, uniforms put potential witnesses in the wrong frame of mind to answer questions.  I forced myself not to show my elation, any plainclothes assignment would look good on my record and maybe if I did a good job, a recommendation to the CoD, the Chief of Detectives.

Chapter Two

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I walked into the Homicide squad room at 9:50am carrying a satchel dug out of my closet and carefully nursing a cup of coffee.  Without the caffeine I doubted my ability to survive the day, having spent the three hours from 2:00am to 5:00am writing up the notes taken last night and making myself familiar with the copies of the victim's files I had taken home with me.  I have always been accused of being an overachiever and mentally agreed, especially if it led toward my goal.  My goal now was to be ready for any questions the Lieutenant might throw at me.

Officer Holder?  I'm Detective Mead, your baby sitter.  A large black man informed me as I neared one of the desks.  The boss will be a little late, but called and asked me to get you situated.  In order to keep you out of trouble, you need to take that desk.  He pointed to the one directly across from him.  You will need to keep me informed at all times whenever you get up from it and will only get up from it when directed.  Clear?

Sure, do you have a small flag?  I had been the victim of newbie harassment before and knew which buttons to push in retaliation.  "I want to be able to signal when I have to go pee or worse.  Or would you rather I Loudly proclaim my need so the entire squad can vote their approval?"  Spoken in a raised voice, my answer was heard by all within twenty feet and got the response I was after, laughter.

Also, do I get just your coffee and run your errands, or am I supposed to serve everybody in here?  It finally dawned on Mead that I was not going to allow the usual hazing.  He slowly and carefully raised his hands, then bowed solemnly as he said Welcome.

During the next hour he was very helpful, I got the scoop on the Lieutenant's work habits, what he expected from reports, and the type of followup he wanted before discussing any case.  He didn't like to hunt and peck for information, he expected his people to show initiative.  All of which I had done instead of sleeping, maybe I made the right decision.

Mead, you and our rookie get in here.  The Lieutenant didn't slow down as he entered the squad and went straight to his office.  Mead grabbed a pad and motioned me in that direction.  I didn't know what to expect, but grabbed my satchel and complied.

Since you decided your day off was to important to interrupt, Jason, you get to take this simple case off my hands.  The other good news is that I'm giving you the benefit of some expert help, Beth will be your backup.  That was way beyond my expectations, I was to be partnered with a detective in Homicide to find the suspect, I was now part of the squad, temporarily.

"Well, Boss, it was you that forced me to out of here yesterday, so as a reward I get a new case and a new partner?"  There was no doubt in his tone that he felt it was punishment to be assigned with me as a tagalong.

How long did you work since your last day off? Nine if memory serves. Why don't we go over everything before you cast aspersions on my sterling character?  You might be surprised.  He turned to me and told me to begin a summary of last night's events.

I carefully pulled my files out of the satchel at my feet, leaned back in the chair and began reading out loud.  It took me almost thirty minutes to cover the action  on Mitchell St., including the information in the files about our dead people.  Mead and the Lieutenant sat through the whole thing without commenting until I was through, then the questions started.

When did you research and write up this report?  Mulligan asked.

I got home at about 2:00 and finished at about 5:00, I wanted to get it all down while it was still fresh in my head.  I admitted.

Jason, are you clear on the problem?  The Lieutenant asked his detective.  Can I assume you'll crack this case by quitting time?

Instead of answering, Mead went back over the case from memory, only taking a glance at his pad occasionally.  I figured out he wasn't trying to remember specifics, he was reviewing questions he had written during my summary.  As I answered it became evident he was impressed with my attention to detail, especially when he turned back to Mulligan.

"The only question I've got, Boss, is why you didn't clear this case last night, must have been your need for